


Jessamine Lovelace's love consultory

by herondaleraxxet



Series: Californian Letters [1]
Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, The Wicked Powers Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Bagkground Jessa, Ghost!Jessamine, Herondales being herondales, I really need TWP, I would die for Kit Herondale, London Shadowhunter Institute, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Relationship Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24570349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herondaleraxxet/pseuds/herondaleraxxet
Summary: The St.Valentine's day ball is held every year in the London Institute and the Carstairs family is invited, much to Kit Herondale's despair. An unexpected talk with Jessamine Lovelace makes him rethink some stuff.
Relationships: Jem Carstairs & Kit Rook, Jessamine Lovelace & Kit Rook, Mina Carstairs & Kit Rook, Tessa Gray & Kit Rook, Tiberius Blackthorn/Kit Rook
Series: Californian Letters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783216
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Jessamine Lovelace's love consultory

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!!! I was kinda sad after realising I had read every Kit fanfic that was out there -so I decided to write one myself! It is also the first fanfic I've ever written, and in a language that's not my native one. Please be kind!!! If you notice any grammar/vocabulary mistake feel free to tell me, you can also find me in my tumblr @herondaleraxxet :) Hope you like this!
> 
> Edited on 06/11/2020 -I just wrote another fic from Ty's perspective! It is not necessarily a sequel to this one, but it maybe is interesting to read as well :) you can find it in my profil!

Kit sat violently on the edge of his bed, shaking. His chest rose rapidly, the blood in his veins running a marathon. In the distance, he could hear himself breathing anxiously.

Certainly, it had not been a great dream. He had been having those strange nightmares for what felt like an eternity then, and just for a moment, he wondered how many cups of coffee he’d have to have throughout the day to avoid sleeping. At least he hadn’t made any noise. The last thing he wanted to do was to wake up Mina and mess up Tessa and Jem’s sleep; they were so busy these days, always hurrying to attend important meetings and stuff. Besides, they had to take care of his four months old baby. Mina could be pretty noisy when she felt her parents weren’t paying much attention to her; of course, they did, but her little baby mind couldn’t really acknowledge that. That’s why those little moments of peaceful sleep had become now a sacred ritual in Cirenworth.

Dreaming about Ty was always sad because Kit missed him so much. When he woke up, he would get all depressed and become unable to face the incoming day. It was not only because of Ty though; he missed how his life was like back in LA. Watching horror movies with Dru, going on adventures with Livvy and Ty, the shadow market, the morning strolls along the beach, feeling the Californian sun beneath his skin (California was far sunnier than Devon, and he had started to develop a rather curios skin tone), fighting with the Blackthorns over who got to eat more food… He even missed the training. But Ty was like a constant on his mind. When he arrived to Devon after a long, awkward journey with Tessa and Jem, he thought he would soon get over Tiberius. Reality was, he still thought about him half a year after that. It was pitiable, knowing that you will never meet again who was your best friend. More than your best friend. And along with the feeling of sadness, Kit felt so embarrassed when he thought about what had happened with all the “I love you” stuff.

Kit looked at the little clock placed in his night stand. It was still too early to be awake; barely four in the morning. At Cirenworth’s, everybody got up at five o’clock. After the daily dosis of running in the surroundings of the house, breakfast would be served and about at eight o’clock Tessa would hurry up to the Spiral Labyrinth, where she always had some work to do. Jem usually stayed at house unless he was needed in some shadowhunter situation (which he was very needed these last weeks, the Angel knows why) and Kit would spend the morning training, reading comics or playing with Mina. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep immediately, he grabbed a copy of  _ Rick and Morty  _ he had been reading the last evening and sighed.

“Have you slept properly?” Tessa asked with a hint of worry in her voice the next morning.

Kit looked up from his Nesquik mug to hold Tessa’s gaze. After hours of reading, he had finally succeeded to sleep two hours. Not that it was a big accomplishment, considering the amount of effort he had put on having a great night of sleep without dreams of any kind.

“Perfectly” he lied, really careful to not make any gesture that could make Tessa be suspicious of him. The woman could always tell when someone was lying. Jem once told him it was her mother instinct. “I’m just not looking forward to our plans today”.

The four of them were going to attend that day a shadowhunters’ ball at the London Institute. Apparently, it was an annual meeting held every St. Valentine’s day in the Institute. At first Kit thought it seemed quite a mundane date to hold any shadowhunters’ gathering, but Jem assured him that shadowhunters had lots of traditions going on in St. Valentine’s day.

“Oh, Kit” sighed Tessa, getting up from her chair while holding Mina, who had just finished being breastfed and looked pleasured. “This is going to be good for you. There will be more nephilim your age. You can take this as an opportunity for making new friends”.

“I don’t need new friends, thanks. I’m perfectly fine with Lola. She’s actually a nice cow, you know”.

“Why does it bother you so much?” asked Jem. He had just gotten out of the shower after running and his hair was dripping wet.

At that point of the conversation, Kit was starting to zone out. It was not the first time Jem and Tessa tried to get him to “make friends”. Both of them knew perfectly Kit’s limitations and their own, but at the same time they agreed that he needed some teenager reassurance while being a teenager himself. But despite not having friends his age, Kit didn’t feel lonely, or lonelier than he would feel if he had. He was used to not hang out with anyone during his free time; growing up with Johnny Rook, he had make sure no one at all noticed him, not even a bit. He would spend several hours in Rook’s basement playing videogames and watching films until his father was done with his business. Kit didn’t mind the solitude.

“I haven’t exactly figured out who I am or what my powers are yet. I prefer to do it on my own, rather than having a bunch of angsty shadowhunters on my back” stated Kit. Jem and Tessa looked at each other, their gazes concerned.

Kit was part faerie. That wouldn’t be important at all; in fact, there were other shadowhunters who had faerie blood beneath them, like the Blackthorns. In spite of this, he had some abilities the rest of nephilim didn’t, since Kit was a descendant of some really powerful fairies and actually pretty powerful, blessed by angels shadowhunters. Because of this, it was safer for him to train at home and not in the Institute.

Jem cleared his throat “Kit, no one knows about your heritage.”

“What if they are racists of something like that? Surely there are many fascists shadowhunters in the UK as well” replied Kit, thinking of that unbearable Zara Deaborn and her whole Cohort.

“No” Tessa sounded conclusive “no one will dare to say anything nasty about you, and if they do I will hex them. Now eat your pancakes. After training Jem will pick you up and we’ll meet in the Institute front door” she left Mina in Jem’s arms and smiled at him “I have some issues to attend in the meanwhile”.

“And off you go” Jem kissed Tessa’s cheek before she left the kitchen and turned to Kit, who was looking at him in despair “now go get yourself ready for the training. You won’t kick any demon asses in your Spiderman shorts, will you?”

The London Institute was located in Fleet Street, where the All-Hallows-The-Less Church used to be before it was destroyed by the London’s Great fire in 1666. If a mundane passed by, they would just see a regular abandoned church, which was not something rare to see in these streets of the city. But Kit knew how it was in the inside: huge, rather labyrinthine if it was your first time there. Full of history and a ceiling so high that it rise up and disappeared into the gloom above, the Institute reminded him of an old enchanted castle. Sort of like Hogwarts. He had been there last year with the Blackthorns, but that journey now felt like a haze, kind of hard to remember.

The four of them were now standing just in front of the front doors. Both Jem and him could open it since they were children of the Angel, but Tessa wasn’t able to and they had agreed on waiting until somebody opened the doors for them as a sign of solidarity. Anyways, Jem had already knocked on them three times and still no one had come to open it. Maybe it was time they took the initiative.

“So” started Kit to break the ice “is this some kind of shadowhunterly St. Valentine’s tradition?”

No answer. Finally, he could hear some quick steps from the other side of the doors. A loud creak sounded and a ginger head appeared from the little space left open.

“Brother Zachariach” said the redhead girl. She wore an apron and looked quite flustered, her cheeks being all red “why didn’t just open the door?”

“I’ve brought Tessa and the children with me” said Jem, who didn’t look bothered at all at the fact that the girl called him by his ex-Silent Brother name “Evelyn invited us to a ball.”

“Ah, right. The ball” she then opened the door and let them in “you wouldn’t just imagine how many hours I’ve been trying to cook something eatable for you all to grab in the bloody party. I don’t know why I’m a cooker in the first place. I’m much better at cleaning stuff up, setting the tables, that kind of things, you know” she was now guiding them into the corridors of the Institute, walking so fast it was difficult to follow her rhythm. She walked through the Institute as if she knew it like the back of her hand; she was walking so fast that her hair tie, which Kit picked from the floor, fell from his messy bun.

“I thought there were now two cookers in the Institute?” inquired Tessa while trying to follow her, Mina curiously observing everything from the shawl her mother was carrying her in. She had stopped crying a few minutes ago and now she looked quite tired, but her eyes were still wide open.

“We had. Manuel was only here keeping company to Carlos, a guy that visited the Institute as a part of her 18 years old travel. He left a week ago, and now I don’t remember a single thing about paella, which would be a pretty useful thing to remember right now.” They arrived to another wood doors with dusty sidelights. Kit could see through the glass the shape of some people.

“I can help you a little bit with the cooking” offered Tessa, who had just left Mina in Jem’s arms. “There is not much I know about paella, but we can prepare some tasty snacks anyways.”

“Will you?” without waiting any answer, the apron girl grabbed her by the arm and started walking towards the kitchen “have fun in there!” She shouted at Jem and Kit before disappearing into a dark corridor.

“I wonder if every guest we encounter is gonna be as nice as her” ironized Kit “I better go hide myself before I get involved in any Spanish-cooking thing.”

Jem shrugged “she’s Irish.”

“As if that explained something.”

“A friend of mine used to say that to describe angry looking cookers” Jem smiled to Kit. “Shall we go, then?”

He opened the doors with his free hand. A group of people, supposedly the attendants of the ball, turned to them.

The ballroom looked quite old-fashioned, as if no one had really cared about it for the last decades. The last time Kit had been in the London Institute, this had been one of the few rooms he and Ty hadn’t rooted around, mainly because the old maid that used to work there didn’t like kids to go in there. Kit wondered where she was; the new maid looked a big deal like her, but was significantly younger.

Everything was airy and bright, and there was an assortment weapons hung on the walls: shiny swords, daggers, and bows. There were also several family tapestries: Carstairs, Highsmith, Blackthorn, even Herondale. Kit looked away, quite uncomfortable. His gaze fixed in the group of tables draped in white that waited in the left side of the room, loaded with lemonade glasses and sandwiches. Maybe he could just make the shadowhunters go away if he hid himself under the table and fed exclusively on sandwiches. In the background he could listen the laughs of the people gathered in the room, their voices loud and proud.

Kit was starting to feel really anxious. In the street, he hadn’t felt that way. He was just having fun with Tessa, Jem and Mina. He had been in London a few times since he arrived to Devon, mostly when Jem wanted him to go help him in Shadow Market-related missions, but it had been more than half a year since he had been with actual shadowhunters apart from Jem. More than that, the last Institute he had been to was the LA Institute, which brought back some nasty memories he didn’t really wanna go into. And he didn’t know either if he was ready to know any other shadowhunters that were not Blackthorns. That were not his friends.

“It has been already enough, thanks” he mutted under his breath. Jem and him were getting close to the crowd of people in the centre of the room, waving at them in a cheerful way.

“Have you said something?”

Before Kit could answer, a tall, dark man was in front of him shaking his hands.

“I’m Ander Bloodstick. And you must be Christopher Herondale.”

Kit tried his best to not jump back. “Nice to meet you”.

After what seemed like hours of greeting people and desperately trying to reciprocate small talk, Kit finally managed to get a sit next to a white table and grabbed a sandwich. Not long ago, Tessa and the redhair maid had brought up a handful of bowls with chips and other kinds of snacks that were being devoured in the moment by a group of hungry teenagers.  _ They must be the Highsmiths _ , thought Kit. Evelyn Highsmith, head of the Institute and grandmother to nine children, all of them residents of the Institute (although Kit hadn’t met them the last he’d been there) was also there. He reminded Evelyn’s repulsion for Downworlders and guessed the reason their grandchildren had been nowhere to be found. John Highsmith, the oldest sibling, had approached Kit with bright eyes, wanting to know more about his Herondale heritage, but left his side immediately when he knew about his friendship with the Blackthorns. “ _ You left quite a mess the last time you were here _ ” said in a passive-aggressive tone than indicated the anecdote wasn’t quite funny to him. “ _ We spent several hours trying to clean the faerie blood or whatever that was spilled in the patio _ ”.

Kit sighed and looked at Mina, who was now in the arms of a blond shadowhunter and looked all cheerful. Tessa and Jem were talking to her; they were all smiles and kind nods, and for a moment Kit wondered if he would ever reach that level of good manners. He stood lazily to grab another ham sandwich when he saw her.

Jessamine. Or at least, her ghost; she had once been a resident in the Institute, but was killed in 1878, when she was killed by Mortmain’s automaton army. She had been a guardian to the Institute since then, and even protected it from Sebastian Morgestern’s attack back in 2007. Tessa and Jem had explained it all to Kit: they had met her a long time ago. She was floating around the room, poking about conversations and making faces at the young couples who danced. Nobody seemed to see her, which Kit thought was pretty sad. All Herondales had a talent to see ghosts, and he wasn’t an exception: Jessamine and him had met the last time he visited London with the Blackthorns, and she had loved to be able to talk to someone.

Jessamine turned back and finally saw Kit, who was also looking at her. She smiled a little and floated to him, going through several clueless shadowhunters.

“Hello, Jessamine” said Kit when the ghost was in front of him. “Long time no see”.

“Indeed” agreed the girl, narrowing her dark eyes. “I’ve heard you are now under Tessa and Jem’s care. Must be nice for a Herondale like you”.

“Uhm” Kit didn’t quite know what to say. “They’re pretty cool. Mina as well” he added when he realised maybe she didn’t know about them having a baby “she usually cries all the time, but I’ve gotten used to that”.

“I always wanted to have a baby” Jessamine seemed now melancholic, her gaze lost in the past “every woman should want to. I felt like it was my duty, but I failed at that”.

Kit cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t know what was the procedure was when a hundred or so years old girl was being sexist.

“Anyways, that’s not lovely to remember” Jessamine waved her ghostly hand “I see you are not making much friends Christopher. I’m afraid it’s not polite to sit in your chair during the whole ball”.

The boy sighed and lowered her head. “I don’t like it here. I wanna go back to Devon and play videogames”.

“Surely those videogames are not more entertaining than being here” replied Jessamine “in the very heart of the shadowhunter London society. You can’t just imagine how many gossiping I’ve already noted… youth nowadays is much amusing than it was when I was alive”.

“My youth is certainly not amusing” stated Kit. “Trapped in the UK, training 24/7 with my adoptive  _ someones _ when I could be in LA attending cool mundane schools and meeting gorgeous girls”.

Jessamine blinked “I thought you were fond of that Blackthorn guy?”

Kit rapidly rise his head and hit something: a silver tray. Luckily the redhair maid had already distributed the food that was on it and was now looking at Kit like he was an alien.

“Were you talking to yourself or something?”

“Definitely not. Definitely not talking to anyone neither” Kit said while rubbing his hurt head.

“Whatever” the girl rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed “Herondales” and left.

“Herondales, I agree” remarked the diverted ghost “I must have been wrong then. But I vividly recall the way you looked at him, young boy”.

“We’re just friends” insisted Kit.

“You are  _ so _ much like Thomas Lightwood. There’s nothing I find more exhausting than boys in denial. Much worse than yellow dresses”.

“I thought nineteenth century people didn’t acknowledge homosexuality” admitted Kit much to his embarrassment.

“That’s offensive. You should never be so judgemental of other people based on their background. Besides, you don’t know the kind of things I’ve witnessed as a ghost” Jessamine shuddered. Kit decided not to ask.

“Alright. Sorry” he desperately searched for words to say “anyways, I’m not crushing Ty or anything. Just platonic friendship. Yep. That’s all. Like Sherlock and Watson, you might say”.

“Sherlock and Watson are obviously in love” stated her at Kit’s astonished gaze “What? I’ve watched the series with Lena Highsmith, you know”.

Kit shook his head “Well I’m not. Even If I were he hates me now, so…”

_ Why not? _ Kit thought. St. Valentine was being pretty much boring, and it wasn’t like Jessamine could tell anyone that Kit had a major crush on Tiberius Nero Blackthorn. He could use some ghostly advice as well, to be honest.

“Why would he hate you?” Jessamine frowned “I thought you two were friends”.

“I fucked up” explained Kit. People in the ballroom were dancing to some latin music he didn’t think was appropriate for the occasion. Nobody was around to hear him, but he lowered his tone anyways. “We both got into big trouble, and then I said some things that I now regret… and moved to another continent”.

“That sounds like an Herondale thing to do” Jessamine smiled. She was floating now above a chair, as if she was sit on it, although Kit knew ghosts couldn’t actually sit on any surface: they would just pass through it.

“The thing is” he fidgeted in his seat, staring at his half-eaten sandwich “I miss him. I miss him so much. I’ve tried to write him a letter, or something… but I always end up thinking he wouldn’t want to know about how I’m doing. And I’m sure that’s the way it is. So if you’d tagged it as “love” it would be more of an unrequited one” he could feel tears swelling up behind his eyes, and blushed furiously. He had had these thoughts for a long time now, and even though it was kind of liberating to talk about them to someone else, he also wanted to scream, to rebel.  _ I love you, Ty. I love you _ .

“Oh, Christopher” the girl softened her voice “It will always be that way if you never pluck up the courage to actually talk all of these things through with him”.

“I don’t have the balls to do so” he shook his head “and even If I had he wouldn’t want to, as I’ve already said. We have this black cloud upon us, you see” he tried to explain carefully as he couldn’t risk to mention Livvy at all “and it’s already made tons of damage” he lifted his head to look at her; she had her head tilted to the side and was attentively listening to him, with both hands on her translucent lap.

“When I was your age, I also fell in love” started Jessamine “and I also made tons of damage around, and I even hurt those who I loved. That’s what being in a relationship is like: you want to please the person you are with, even if the consequences are hard to face” she smiled sadly, as if remembering something. “I was tricked, you see. He didn’t love me back. He never did. But I took the risk” she suddenly clenched her jaw, obstinately “and even if I failed I take pride on it”.

Kit didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say.

“When I acknowledge my mistake, it was too late for me. I wanted to help all of those who actually cared for me. But I died” her voice trembled, but when Kit looked at her she was still offering that stubborn look, heated with both pride and an immense love. “It is not late for you, Kit. And neither that Blackthorn guy is the wrong one for you, although I have never met him. Us woman tend to notice these things. Specially” -and there was a more relaxed tone in her voice now- “if we’ve dealt with several generations of foolish shadowhunters like you”.

Kit actually laughed at that. He was desperately battling the tears in his eyes now, and tried to wipe them with the back of his hand. Jessamine had stopped talking, and looked as juvenile as ever. She was wiggling her fingers to the rhythm of the currently playing song.

“Do you think he’ll hate me?” asked Kit with a small voice.

“I have no idea, darling” she kindly said “but it is worth taking a try, isn’t it?”

But before Kit could reply, she was gone. He looked at his right, bewildered, and saw Jem and Tessa indicating with gestures for him to come with them and dance. He stood up from the chair, feeling a little bit disoriented, and looked around the door before seeing Jessamine, floating around the chandelier and glimpsing at him.  _ Thanks _ , he mouthed, and she giggled and waved her hand at him.

Back in Cirenworth, Kit took a shower and crept to his bed, dressed in his very manly ( _ thanks, Jem)  _ Spiderman pyjamas. He felt his head heavy and wanted to sleep, but at the same time couldn’t stop the intense thoughts spinning inside of him.

At the end, he had managed to dance a little bit with that Lena Highsmith girl, who was actually pretty nice and obviously a fangirl to the Sherlock Holmes TV series. He had also made lots of small talk with other guests around the room and even got the phone number of a few shadowhunters of his age that had attended the ball from all parts of the UK.

Jessamine hadn’t showed up after their talk, but he didn’t miss her. There was something muddy about talking to a ghost, as if it was something not meant to happen. It was also sad to physically see one, although Kit was very thankful to Jessamine for talking to him the way she had.

He got up and stared at her desk, both hands in a fist. He took seat. He thought of his dad, who spent all of his distressing life trying to protect him from his fate, and who would never see becoming a man. He thought of Jessamine, who also lost everything because she loved so much it hurt. He thought of her, a prisoner in the place she had so many bad memories. And finally he thought of Livvy, of the way her face had lit up when he kissed her, on the way she had patted him in the back “ _ Ty thinks we should be parabatai when all of this clears up. I hope you come to the ceremony. And you’ll always be my friend, alright? _ ”

He grabbed a pen and a paper, the words flowing rapidly in his mind as he wrote.

_ Hello Ty… _

**Author's Note:**

> You may have noticed this -I took some liberties regarding several characters. The redhair maid is someone I totally made up based on Bridget Daly, the London Institute's maid that we all know from The Infernal Devices. The Highsmith family is also not mentioned in the books apart from Evelyn Highsmith, but I decided to make it up as well.


End file.
